Trying on New Careers...A quick way to discover who you aren't

There is much to be said about switching careers in midlife. Most of the truly prolific advice is emblazoned on t-shirts, coffee mugs and bumper stickers. For me, midlife career changing is at best, an adventure, at worst like dancing with a rattlesnake. In order to live you've gotta keep moving, be aware of your surroundings and trust your instincts. Unable to distinguish my instincts from random ego-based thoughts (read Eckhardt Tolle if this makes no sense) I have frequently discounted my own intuition and forged ahead into the wilderness.

After a less than satisfying run at being an Esthetician (where I learned that waxing is repulsive and sales is disingenuous) I stumbled into the most "oh thats not me" job I've ever had. I worked in a bridal shop.

Let me explain that I have been married three times (still maried to number three). In all those marriages I have never had a traditional wedding. I am not a traditional girl. I have always failed to understand why this "special day' merits such attention, expense and energy. So how did I end up at one of the toniest bridal salons in my area? Because I'm a nice person. (no, really. I am)

Back when I was a Esthetician I had a young client whom I really enjoyed seeing. Turns out that this young woman's Mom owned a nearby bridal shop. One afternoon, while I was skillfully applying a facial mask to her perfect twenty-something skin she said, "You ought to come and work for my Mom." I laughed. "No really" she persisted, "you'd be great. You have such a great personality and my Mom needs help. blah blah blah." Again I laughed. "Give me your phone number, " she said, "I'll have her call you. You're leaving this salon soon...it would be perfect."

I gave her the number. What was I thinking????

Two weeks later I was sitting face-to-face with Mom, a formidible business woman, impeccably dressed and also sporting a "great personality". She loved me. She loved me despite my candid comments like, "The only wedding experience I've ever had is getting married three times." and

"I don't think I could tolerate a roomful of babbling brides-to-be.". And even, "I cannot see myself being good at this. I suck at sales." She wanted me. I had a "great personality". I took the job.

Let me say that working in a bridal shop requires the physical stamina of a longshoreman and the patience of Mother Theresa. I had neither. So, armed with my "great personality" and not much else, I learned the questions to ask the brides, I learned how to re-direct them when they wanted something we didn't carry, I learned to say, "The dress is $5000" without barfing. I muscled-up carrying dress after dress (hey they are heavy!!!) into fitting rooms. I stuffed size 12 women into size 8 sample dresses and used large industrial clips to make a size 8 dress look good on a size 2 body. I sweated. My back hurt. My fingertips ached from pinning and unpinning heavy fabric. Oh yea...this was not good.

I also learned to loathe brides, bridesmaids and mothers of the bride. Something happens to women in a bridal shop. Something awful. Because this job preceeded the now ubiquitous bridal shows we currently have on television (e.g. Bridzillas) I had no frame of reference. I was totally unprepared for the ugliness. And it was ugly. Add to this the wealthy women who frequented the store for its line of designer evening wear. Rich, empty women with attitude and far too much money. I was so out of my comfort zone. Nothing good was going to come from this...I could feel it in my bones.

The day it all came crashing down for me began with a wealthy women who had been in the shop no fewer that six times in the preceeding two weeks. Each time we tried on the same outfits. Each time she hemmed and hawed about "not being sure". I concluded silently that she needed a real life. My annoyance grew. So did my impatience. I could sense that I was reaching my point of no return. The edge in my voice was growing stronger. My face was no longer blank...it was defiant. There was no way my great personality would save me. I believe I finally said, "Look. You have been in here multiple times in the past weeks. You have tried and re-tried these dresses repeatedly. Obviously you do not know what you want or we don't have what you want. Why don't you look someplace else."

Not good. My boss called me at home that night and suggested that perhaps this was not the best place for me to work. I agreed. We mutually agreed that my career in Bridal sales was over.

I breathed a sigh of deep relief. Free at last.

The lesson here: When the voices in your head say "Don't do this." When you know that there is no way that you fit a particular job, LISTEN to yourself. How many learning experiences do you really need?